


Love Sick

by Shinigamibutter



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluffy around the edges, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Tragic undertones, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinigamibutter/pseuds/Shinigamibutter
Summary: Unrequited love doesn't just hurt, it kills. Myungjun is learning the hard way.





	1. When

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jhopespanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhopespanda/gifts).



> Oh would you look at that original title. To start I hate this AU, I haven't read any I was blown away by, ever. For the simple fact every single time they never give a real reason that your body, which anatomically can not, produces flowers. I have fixed this. Feel free throw things at me. *shrugs* 
> 
> I was never going to write this AU but I was challenged. And I'm a sucker.

Park Jinwoo, the name of Myungjun’s college friend and simultaneously the man he’s in love with. Despite the fact Jinwoo happened to be a whole two years younger, and just as many inches shorter, than him. Myungjun had fallen in love with him, he just wasn’t sure when. Maybe it was when they met, maybe it was a year ago, or maybe it was two weeks ago. He couldn’t be sure. What he was sure of was that his love would cost him.

The evidence of the price was the small white petal in his hand speckled with blood, his blood. He’d coughed it up just a moment ago, to his own terror. He knew what it meant. It meant he was now victim to a rare disease. One that could only be contracted by those of Druid descent, a bloodline he often forgot he had. After all, he hadn’t inherited any of the true benefits of their ancient race. No, only this. 

This disease known just as widely by its official name Hanahaki, as it’s unofficial name of the love sickness. They were well chosen names on both counts. Myungjun had grown up hearing it called both interchangeably but only children of the Druid knew that Hanahaki was a very literal name. It meant to throw up flowers, and those that were afflicted did just that when their love was unrequited. They choked on their feelings born as flowers in their lungs.

It was considered an extremely rare disease and almost a legend in a some parts of the world. Parts where the Druid blood had finally been so deluded with human blood that the disease had all but died out. In Korea and Japan it was still as strong as ever as old families married into even older families. It was also still prominent in Britain, Ireland, and other countries where the blood ran old and strong. With ancestral trees dating all the way back to forgotten times.

Myungjun could trace his own family tree all the way back to when the Druid first landed on earth. His was one of the few families who still religiously recorded such things. There weren’t many left, after all the Druid hadn’t returned to earth in centuries. And when they’d left to return to their home planet all they’d left was their DNA and plum trees. 

Not that knowing where the disease came from. helped him any. It didn't stop his heart from squeezing at the thought of Park Jinwoo and what he'd thought was a simple crush on him. Nor did it stop the pain brought by idea that the angelic smile the other had flashed him today was just the same as it was to everyone else. It didn't stop the longing ache in his chest to see it again anyway. 

He could only sigh to himself wondering what he should do with the petal. So tiny, so cute, beautiful if he dared to say so with the minute speckles of blood but so, so deadly. Still as an artist he couldn't help himself when he thought about using them. Good material was hard to find, and there was nothing quite as delicate, beautiful, and tragic as love. So he shoved the petal into one of many empty jars around his studio flat and hid it away. 

Thoughts though, were not something so easily hidden or shoved aside. They plagued him as he set up for his newest piece. There was an exhibition coming up and his agent wasn't going to accept an antiquated disease as an excuse. Not until he was suffocating and on his last breath. Which was why he'd hired her to begin with. To keep him focused, without slipping into the madness of his passion. But she wasn't here right now. 

So his thoughts circled around the short disaster who had landed in his life. He could recall their first meeting with clarity, it had after all been a dramatic one. As many of his college experiences had been being a fine arts major, even if it was only one of the two he'd graduated with. They were the classes that had the most outwardly dramatica students, other than the drama department.

It had been a nice fall day, the leaves had been blowing around campus piling up in corners where the wind couldn’t move them forward. He’d been near one such pile, inspired by the way the leaves still swirled on top while more were added. An image of his latest and greatest architecture model coming to mind, when he’d been run into. Not softly or gracelessly but simply bowled over by another student who was trying to catch their paper that had flown away from them. He’d seen it land in the leaf pile just before he’d been toppled over. 

That had been the first time in his life that Myungjun had felt like god was sending him a gift. Because there was no better way to describe Jinwoo’s smile than angelic even back then. It had been beamed at him when Jinwoo apologized profusely and helped him up, it felt like something out of a bad romance novel. Though at the time Myungjun had brushed it off, his thoughts too occupied with his studies to even remotely think about how utterly attractive the man was. So he’d accepted his apology and moved on. Bad romance novels weren’t life after all, and he knew never see Jinwoo again.

He’d been wrong and they ran into each other in the same walkway, passing each other by. Jinwoo had flagged him down this time asking if he wanted to get coffee to make up for last time, since back then Myungjun had scuttled off before he could offer. From there it had been history. A simple they got along so well they continued to meet up, and meet up until they knew each other so well they were considered close despite the age gap.

Back then Myungjun had known he had a soft spot for one Park Jinwoo. A possible crush, something he’d shoved down deep inside dismissing it. Even though it grew stronger, he’d felt like it would never amount to anything real. He had other friends he spent time with, that he even preferred to spend time with rather than Jinwoo. Even knowing the other was attractive hadn’t done anything, after all there was a whole Cha Eunwoo on campus.

Still that had been a year and some odd months ago. And from that one meeting things had changed slowly, the little bud of something grew steadily inside him. Making him smile harder when Jinwoo smiled at him, making him seek the other out more, and finally making him realize that there was no one else he’d rather be with. A feeling that he knew deep down to his bones that Jinwoo did not share with him.

The tiny petal sitting innocently in the jar behind him told him such. He just wasn’t sure what he could do about it. There were options, there were always options even if they were painful or hard. They weren’t something he wanted to think about now though. So instead he forced his focus back to the piece of his exhibit he hadn’t finished, wrestling his thoughts away from Jinwoo and how he knew the other didn’t love him.


	2. we

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like writing sad things. Ok? I hate it.

Two more petals had entered the jar and Myungjun was thankful he lived alone and no one visited him. Tonight was awful, the pain from coughing them up was almost paramount to the pain of seeing Jinwoo today. They hadn’t been alone, for which he counted his blessings. It would have only been more painful then. As all Jinwoo had talked about was the new girl in his class, how pretty she was and friendly too. Each word had felt like a spike shoved into his chest and left there. 

It still hurt even now, throbbing against his rib cage while his throat felt raw from the petals. They were far, far from the first by now. It had been well over a month since he’d coughed up the first one. It had been a long month, one filled with avoiding his friend even though all he wanted to do was see him, to talk to him, to do things that he knew Jinwoo wouldn’t want any part of. So he’d stayed away. Spending the free time he now found himself with either engrossed in his art like he was supposed to be or doing his due diligence towards his new disease. 

Staying away hadn’t helped. His thoughts were still filled with the desire to see the object of his affections or pinpointing exactly when he’d become it. Which all in all meant he’d spent a lot more time thinking about one Park Jinwoo than his upcoming exhibit. Wondering what the other male was up to or scrolling through his posts on Twitter, a sparse few. Yet every time he so much as pictured the other it made his heart squeeze in a way that wasn’t quite painful. Not until he’d done it for hours and produced yet another petal for his jar.

Tonight though had been an obligation he hadn’t been able to avoid. It hurt all the more that Jinwoo had been happy to see him, hugging him tightly when he’d entered their mutual friend’s tiny flat. Pretending it meant nothing was easier to do while he was surrounded by people. Telling himself he didn’t remember exactly where Jinwoo’s hands had landed, even briefly was a lie he couldn’t keep up alone. Convincing himself that he remembered every touch from everyone else didn’t work as even the memory of their casual hugs faded with the hours.

Glaring at the petals stubbornly did no more now than it had throughout the month. He did it anyway, while forcing his thoughts to focus once more on what he should be doing. Tearing them away from the happy smile Jinwoo had worn earlier than night. It was painful, it ached in all the ways he’d forgotten it could while he’d been avoiding him. An easier feat than he’d originally thought it would be considering they shared many mutual friends. 

None of them knew though. He hadn’t told a soul about his crush turned love, turned disease. He knew he should, it would help to a point to be able to confide in someone what he was feeling. Not that their help would do any good in the end. There were very few options when it came to Hanahaki. Staring at the piece he was still working on for his exhibit he picked himself up off the floor where he’d taken refuge in his ‘I’m thinking about it’ nest of blankets. A comfortable spot he’d made to stare up at his art when he was feeling blocked.

He’d spent a lot of time in it over the last month, most of it thinking of Jinwoo, crying, or coughing up the petals he was starting to loathe. Cute as they were he knew his days were numbered staring at them. He’d done his research and once he started coughing up whole flowers he could either decide to die with his love or throw it away. Or attempt to. There were always risks involved. 

Yet it was a decision he’d already made. He just hadn’t gotten around to confirming it with the right people yet or setting things in place for the move he was going to make. His agent wasn’t going to care for his plans much but he’d contact her as soon as he was done with this piece. The final piece for his exhibit. He wouldn’t be here when it was finally displayed, though he was sure he’d hear all about the rave reviews and the controversy of it later. But he knew by then the pieces wouldn’t mean the same as they meant now. Or he hoped so.

As he was going to have the surgery and remove the disease in his lungs. The side effects of which were widely debated in the small circle of people who had undergone the knife. As it wasn’t as commonly done as it used to be with the Druid bloodlines dying out. He’d be traveling to a different city entirely for the procedure, and he’d be staying there under observation for at least a few months. Understandably so.

Myungjun knew even then it was a risk. The surgery would only remove the disease and nothing more. Despite the claims of those before who said their feelings disappeared with their memories of the person they’d loved, he didn’t believe them. There was no scientific evidence that the memories were gone. Instead he believed those that told their stories of going under with the desire to forget the person or even just their feelings. He believed that with their determination to forget they were able to move on. 

It was something he wanted to believe. Because he wasn’t sure that he could trust that his feelings would just disappear without his own efforts. Or if he did believe and it didn’t happen like that, that he would make it a second time. There were documented cases of people getting the surgery and relapsing with the same love they’d cut out. Falling all over again for the person they’d decided could never love them. He didn’t want that. It hurt just to think about it.

The tears had started again before he’d even realized he was crying. The piece before him becoming blurry even as he worked on the jar in his hand emptying it slowly as a tickle in his throat started again. His time was growing shorter each day. When he did finally stop it was only to cough up a flower, white and cute in his hand, save the tiny specks of his blood on the petals. He used it too. 

His throat was raw, when he finally finished the piece three days later. Four more flowers had been added to it. But he’d been able to pack up his place, call his agent, and set a date for everything all in the span of those three days. As he’d expected she was not happy, then absolutely terrified for him even after his assurances. She’d offered to go with him, to be there for him when he woke up. Of course he knew why she’d offered, talent like his was hard to come by.

Declining her had been difficult. But after everything was said and done he needed a change. He’d already lined up steady work in the new city. Working on homes, the whole reason he’d gotten two majors to begin with. And if he were honest with himself he knew he’d only forget if he surrounded himself with all new things, new faces. All so he could move on from the Park Jinwoo who didn’t love him. 

Still he found himself petty enough to invite his friends to his exhibit. He knew it was wrong, a bit cruel in some ways considering the subject matter and the fact he’d never see any of them again. He knew the message would come across quite differently with his absence. Instead of saying he was sick, it would imply he was dead. The petals and flowers covered in blood, homage to a disease that easily stole his life. 

Five days later his heart pounded against his ribcage looking up at the pieces he’d poured his soul into, his love into, and it hurt. It felt like he was leaving everything behind. He knew he essentially was. He wouldn’t be here when his friends put everything together nor would he be here to answer their calls when they demanded answers. Though he’d instructed his agent to tell Jinwoo what he couldn’t. What he wouldn’t burden him with. Because by then he’d be under the knife.

When he left all of his feelings floated away on the wind like the last petal he held in his hand. The flower it belonged to followed as he stepped into the hospital. Decisions like these were final. He only hoped that he’d made the right one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts???
> 
> There's only one part left for sure


	3. are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought hard about how I wanted to do this. Because love is much more complex than we write it more often than not and I always strive to show that as often as I can. Because I think a heavy dose of reality with a splash of unrealistic makes for the best writing. And this isn't my kind of AU to begin with.
> 
> *smashes head into keyboard* Somehow this turned into 4 chapters. Please save your author from herself. Please.

Two years was a long time. Myungjun knew that intellectually but it still didn’t feel long enough or real enough to believe, but that was how long ago he’d gone under the knife. Having the flowers and petals that would have eventually suffocated him removed from his lungs. Even though it had been ill advised he’d kept them just like he’d kept the first ones, in a jar only this time he’d frozen them in clear resin. A reminder of what he’d survived. 

Staring at them now he couldn’t help allowing himself to picture the man he’d been in love with. The image though was fuzzy, faded in all the details, the only strong memory that of Park Jinwoo’s smile still angelic to him after all these years. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about him in a long time, as the younger floated across his mind from time to time. When he heard snippets of a song they’d both liked, a familiar name of a friend they’d shared, or just the moments he missed the other.

Those moments didn’t happen nearly as often as they used to and they hurt much less too. The surgery had been a success, in that it had removed the flowers and petals. In total there had been six flowers and ten petals when they’d opened him up. Their roots wrapped around his lungs in such a way that the surgery had taken an extra twenty minutes more than it normally did. When he came to they’d told him exactly how close to suffocating he’d truly been. It had hurt for reasons other than Jinwoo then.

After that they’d kept an eye on him, x-raying his chest every few weeks as he attended therapy for the emotions he was recovering from. It had been much easier letting go of his first artistically recognized painting than it had been letting go of Park Jinwoo. For the first three days after the surgery he’d cried, not because he missed his friend but because he’d given up without even trying. It was something that he hadn’t thought he would regret that he did for awhile. 

Now was different though. He was successful in his career as an architect his houses as wildly sought after as his paintings had been. Though he went under an alias these days not wanting to be found by the friends he’d unceremoniously left behind. He’d seen the texts, calls, and emails from them before he’d changed his number the day of the exhibit. Those were the last words he’d spoken to any of them.

The only person he did hear from was his former agent. The last thing she’d told him before blowing up on him about what a moron he was for having her do his dirty work, was that she hoped he found happiness. He didn’t have the courage to tell her that he had all the happiness he needed in his work back then. But he was still living that way now. After Jinwoo he’d given up on love. Not because he couldn’t feel like some people claimed, but because he didn’t want to risk it all again. 

Staring at the jar of flowers he shook his thoughts away reminiscing was something he truly didn’t have time for. There were houses to design and new clients to meet. And he hadn’t thought about Park Jinwoo in months, maybe even at all in the last five weeks. The only reason he’d thought about him now being the name of his new client matched that of his old friend, their age too. But everything else was different, or at least had a different feel to it. He couldn’t be sure what had become of his past love.

He did of course hope he was well. It wasn’t Jinwoo’s fault he hadn’t loved him like that. Still he knew that the younger man was no longer someone he should think about. A relapse even after all this time was possible, especially since he’d never moved on to a new partner. According to the doctor’s it was most common in patients like him who gave up on love to relapse. Patients who couldn’t or wouldn’t let go of the past were common as the past was often looked at with rose colored glasses. 

It had been almost a year before they’d actually cleared him and stopped x-raying for any possible flowers might pop up. High risk was their reasoning, but he suspected it was because he wasn’t entirely unwealthy after every piece of his exhibit sold with the hype of the controversy of it. He didn’t mind, he thought it might take longer after a half formed petal was found three months after the surgery. Yet after he’d coughed it up there were no more. And he’d since steeled himself further not allowing even a single thought to romance as he worked.

Many people questioned if he was lonely. To which of course he told them he wasn’t. It was hard not to think about their question though when he drove, his thoughts drifting as his eyes drifted over the road. Today wasn’t an exception as he drove out the site he’d be working on. The client, a Park Jinwoo, wanted him to see the land and get a feel for it before even touching pen to paper. And who was he to deny them if they were willing to pay his exorbitant fees for a consultation let alone a house? 

The site itself was beautiful. Surrounded by plum trees, the contractor who he’d be working with if he took the job told him Park Jinwoo had them planted when he bought the property. And had then refused to even discuss a house design until they were in full bloom. Though he’d had the areas not filled with trees cleared for construction in the meantime. Myungjun knew that meant that there was at least a base design in his client’s mind. And the space was giving him quite the inspiration as well. Reminding him of days past.

Before he could ask anymore about their to be employer a car had pulled up to the property, his breath caught in his throat when he saw who had climbed out of the car. His heart stopping and squeezing painfully at the same time. He’d told himself there was no way they were the same person, no way that fate could be so cruel. Myungjun knew that he really should have known better when his past love Park Jinwoo came walking up to them.

Unfortunately for him Myungjun knew he wasn’t the only one who had recognition written across his face. Two years was not long enough to wipe his image from his friend’s mind it seemed. For as soon as Jinwoo had actually seen him he’d started running towards him. And no matter how much he wanted to turn and run towards his car his feet were frozen in place. Memories of long nights wishing for this scenario in a different context playing out in his mind. So many memories, they slid down his cheeks in liquid form.

“Myungjun!” Jinwoo’s voice was astonished and his hug tighter than ever before. It was then that Myungjun wondered exactly how much his agent had actually told the younger, if she’d even passed his message along at all. He tried to smile when Jinwoo pulled back, his hands on Myungjun’s smaller shoulders keeping him in place so he could look at him. It probably wasn’t very convincing but Jinwoo only smiled at him, and it hurt.

“Jinwoo…” He knew his answer was awkward and the contractor beside them shifted uneasily on his feet picking up on it. Myungjun spared him a side glance while Jinwoo did no such thing. The contractor coughed loudly and looked away. He hesitated turning back to Jinwoo but was unable not to when the other started speaking again, a hand rubbing away one of the tears on his cheek.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Park Jinwoo of the angelic smile and most handsome face Myungjun had ever beheld looked as close to tears as Myungjun had ever seen him. The guilt in his gut twisted easily at the pained expression. Old feelings he’d convinced himself he no longer harbored pushed to the forefront telling him he’d never seen anyone this handsome in two whole years. That he likely never would again. “Your agent told me you were sick, that you had to leave suddenly…”

Myungjun nodded, the tears on his cheeks at least were the only ones he felt capable of crying. The rest dried up at the way he’d left everyone behind. It had been cruel, and it was only like fate to repay cruelty with cruelty. “I came here for an operation.” Even he thought his voice sounded unsure, and he was hyper aware of the contractor shifting again. Though Jinwoo was still ignoring his presence entirely. “I didn’t want anyone to find me in case it didn’t go well.” 

“Did it go well?” Jinwoo’s face was too close when he asked that question, too near to the sound of his erratic heartbeat. So he nodded in reply and was finally let go as a disappointed look overtook the younger’s face. “I suppose it would have if you’re here huh?” He scratched his cheek and looked around as if suddenly remembering where he was. He then spent ten minutes apologizing to the contractor and leading them around the property. His vision filling their minds as they spoke.

Myungjun noted that Jinwoo wanted a lot of glass, a lot of light, and a lot of brightness. Still the color of plum blossom petals speckled with blood clouded his vision as he tried to think of the vision he was being told. And what came together was something beautiful, delicate, and a work he didn’t actually want to pass up. He would though, it was safest. It was asking to relapse to even see Jinwoo let alone work with him on a personal level. 

In the end Jinwoo had talked him into thinking about it despite his desire to give a flat out no. Though he’d been able to decline catching up and drinks, no matter how much he was curious how Jinwoo had changed in two years. The only thing he could really see about him that changed was his wealth. As he looked no older and from what interaction they did have before he made up the excuse of another appointment showed him someone just as dorky and fun loving as before. 

What he needed now was to know what his old agent had told Jinwoo, if she’d really passed along the message he’d intended. Because if she had he was certain there was no way Jinwoo would have acted like that, as if he were meeting just any old friend. Not someone who’d been so in love with him they’d almost suffocated on it. Finding her number had been easy but getting up the courage to reach out to her had taken him three days. All of which were filled with meetings about his current projects.

Leaving no room for thoughts of Jinwoo, he design that he’d thought up for him, or the way it had felt so good to be in his arms again. At least there shouldn’t have been room, yet he was haunted by the design in his dreams and the feeling of a ghost hug wouldn’t leave him. No matter how much he pushed himself into work. The memories he’d buried dragging themselves to the surface playing along with the side glances, casual touches, and mannerisms Jinwoo had displayed days ago.

When he did reach his old agent, he first got an earful of a lecture and then the understanding. It was then he realized he’d missed her too with her drive and the way she’d pushed him to better himself. The same way that knowing Jinwoo had pushed him into being better as well. But when he asked what she’d told him, if she’d only relayed the simple message of he’d been in love with him she faltered. “I told him everything Myungjun. I didn’t think it was fair that you suffered like that, I’m glad you’re happy working on houses but you didn’t have to run away.”

His heart was heavier in his chest than it had been in months as her words weighed on him their meaning jumbling up with the events of three days ago. Though two years was a long time, it was possible Jinwoo had forgotten. She was still talking though and he had to force himself to tune back in. “I saw the look in his eyes when I told him Myungjun,” He wasn’t sure where he’d tapered off but he listened intently now. “He was hurt. I don’t think he had any idea you felt that way about him. He’d asked where you went too.”

Myungjun nodded solemnly. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going for that reason, the fact Park Jinwoo had shown up here despite his best efforts was just astronomically insane. But he wasn’t going to interrupt her to say so. Instead he listened to her motherly patronizing tone, one he had missed more than he thought he would. “I couldn’t tell him, but for a few months afterwards he kept contacting me to see if I’d heard from you. You really should talk to him, I’m not sure if he moved on but I’m sure he felt more than you thought he did.”

“I’ll...think about it.” He sighed knowing now that she had his number again she’d push him to do so until she died of old age. So he turned the topic to painting and asking her how she’d been. Which brought the mood right up and had her begging for new pieces reminiscing on the old days and telling him about the new men she worked with. It had been nice to catch up he decided and found himself answering Jinwoo’s text to meet again and strike a contract with a positive. 

The meeting this time was in a cafe in one of the companies that Jinwoo worked for on his lunch break. The contractor had been there as well as a few other people that Myungjun instantly forgot as he never dealt with people in those jobs directly. Blueprints were started mentally when he left. His heart hurt more than it had in years when saw the lingering look from Jinwoo when he returned to work. Knowing he knew only made it hurt worse as he found himself analyzing every little thing.

That night he coughed up one tiny petal, white speckled in blood and cute as they all were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you've been enjoying this. Next chapter is the last chapter for sure!!! Save me.


	4. aliens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's the end now. Last chapter was supposed to be the end but I'm a whipped author and then there was more. So that happened.
> 
> Also I made the chapter titles like that for me. Cause I found it amusing. OK? I also changed all the ratings and tags because it went very off from where I was expecting it to go.

Calling Jinwoo out to talk was the hardest thing Myungjun had ever done. Or at least that’s what it felt like as he stared at his phone after the call had ended. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating wildly, and his vision was blurry. Though that might have been from the coughing that had followed immediately after a small petal left in his hand. There were four now in the new jar he’d started just a day ago. Things would be different this time though. He’d sworn it to himself.

The first step being actually telling Jinwoo himself how he felt. Though he was certain that the other would be more confused than anything that his old college friend was suddenly confessing to him. The same one that had run away from his feelings for him before. If Jinwoo remembered that to begin with, Myungjun was certain at least it was something he’d be unable to forget. However he knew that Jinwoo and him were miles apart when it came to romance. 

Jinwoo, he was fairly sure, was straight. Which already severely reduced his chances back then and even more so now that Jinwoo was a sought after wealthy bachelor. Or that was the gossip he’d been able to pick about him when he reached out to old friends, or more accurately was hunted down by them. As Jinwoo had taken it upon himself to hand out his number to their old mutual friends. It was nice. He’d missed them, and talking to them only reminded him how much Jinwoo had ultimately changed his life for the better back then. 

He tried not to dwell though as the week wore on, projects requiring his attention as the days passed. The blueprint coming together for Jinwoo’s house in his spare time, as it was not an official project so he didn’t have to charge so much. He was allowed one a year by his company as long as his company projects came first. Though that was a secret from Jinwoo for now, as he didn’t want him to feel burdened by it. The pained look he’d seen briefly on Jinwoo’s face was enough to have him keeping his mouth shut. 

Before he knew it the day had arrived. He glanced at the jar of petals, it was half full now. The disease was much worse the second time. More painful and a lot more deadly. The bloodstains on the petals were much bigger and darker now. He set the jar in the middle of his table, a centerpiece. An easier way to start the conversation. But everything was ready now and Jinwoo would be there in a few hours at the most. 

Looking around he made sure he’d put everything away. This apartment was much smaller than the one he’d had previously as there were no art supplies or canvases he needed to keep strewn about the place. Instead all he had was a drawing board over by the window, tucked into the corner and a couch opposite. The finer things in life hidden behind cabinet doors allowing for maximized use of the space. All in all his place was just an example of his skills as a designer. 

Knowing his place was impressive wasn’t enough to keep from being nervous as the minutes slowly passed. Cooking wasn’t much of a distraction either as every so often he’d stop to cough or spot the petals in the jar. Thoughts racing over what he would say despite his attempts to clear his mind. Yet when the doorbell rang he found himself jumping two feet in the air and almost scolding himself on the dishes he was setting out. 

Jinwoo was gracious enough to have brought a bottle of wine to dinner, it was his favorite. He tried not to think about it too much as he ushered him inside. The compliments about his place were expected but still nice as he lead his old friend into the dining room kitchen area. Though once they reached the table Jinwoo stopped dead in his tracks, the laughter of a few seconds ago from comparing places dying in his throat. Myungjun wasn’t sure if it was because there was a spread of his favorite dishes or the ‘decorative’ jar of petals. 

Either way he took his seat slowly, taking the stool that put his back to the kitchen at the island table in case anything else was needed. Jinwoo did finally sit after that but the look on his face was dark, darker than Myungjun had ever seen it before. Yet no words were spoken as he ‘remembered’ the bottle of wine and took care of it. Getting their drinks while he was at it, the whole time feeling eyes on him as he moved about the spacious kitchen. 

When he sat back down he could feel the tension that had been absent when Jinwoo arrived coming back again, this time tenfold what it was. The younger was fixing him with a stare that challenged him to ignore the elephant in the room. He did though, still unsure of what to say or where to start. Even though he’d invited the other over with every intention of being honest. It now felt like the completely wrong thing to do. His chest hurting with the effort it took to even be around Jinwoo knowing he was here as old friends.

“Do you like it here?” Myungjun tried for small talk, the kind of talk he suspected he’d have if he invited any of their other mutual friends over from back home. The question was met with narrowed eyes and no answer. Swallowing down his knee jerk response of asking what was wrong he allowed himself to sigh. “This isn’t why I asked you to dinner.” It felt like his eyes might bulge out with his admittance but he kept going while taking a sip of wine. Maybe it would help.

In response Jinwoo took the wine glass from him and forced their eyes to meet. “Then why did you call me over?” The question was heated and it stung, but Myungjun wasn’t given the opportunity to answer. “Does it have to do with these?” The younger pointed at the jar of petals and Myungjun tried not to break immediately at how angry Jinwoo’s deep voice sounded. “Were you thinking of telling me and running away again?”

That stung. “No, I’m not running this time.” Myungjun shook his head cutting off anymore accusatory questions even if he’d earned them. This wasn’t how he wanted to bring this up either but they were already there so he’d decided he might as well run with it. It was hard to talk around the lump in his throat, likely another petal. “I...I loved you a long time ago.” He started, his eyes drifting down to the table as his words spilled out. “But since I’m part Druid and I knew, I knew that you didn’t feel the same...I got Hanahaki.” 

He didn’t dare to look up and see the expression on his past love’s face. If he felt anything now, if he realized that he had gotten it again because of him. The way his heart was beating echoed in his ears as he went on, swallowing thickly. “I loved you so much that I wouldn’t have been able to breathe if I hadn’t gotten the surgery. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you back then. I wasn’t brave enough.” He forcefully reminded himself that he was definitely brave enough now even if he couldn’t look up to do it.

“I have the disease again, it’s faster the second time.” Despite how much he didn’t want to look up Myungjun found his face whipping up when a hand landed on his on the table. A squeeze to it had him blushing, well probably flushing at this point with how red his face already was from his honesty. Still he continued. “I...fell in love again.” He found the rest of the words coming to a stuttering halt as he stared into Jinwoo’s dark eyes. They were warm, concerned, and something else. 

“I know how Hanahaki works, your agent told me. The exhibit, those petals...they were for me.” Jinwoo’s voice was lower now and his thumbe was rubbing against the back of Myungjun’s hand as he spoke. The food was getting cold as he continued but neither of them seemed to care. “I’m sorry for not noticing, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you.” 

Myungjun was taken aback by the last words. His eyes going wide as he tried to figure out what they meant. Realizing that maybe Jinwoo didn’t understand what kind of love he wanted from him then, that he still wanted now. He knew that Jinwoo had loved him as friend, that much had been obvious. So painfully obvious. Though when he opened his mouth to speak he was cut off.

“I know, and this might sound callous,” Jinwoo paused meeting his eyes and locking on as his hand squeezed his again. “I know that you’ve moved on and found a new love, granted one that doesn’t love you, but I realized when I saw you again that I do. That I always have, even if I wanted to reject it back then.” Myungjun felt his mind float away with those words trying to maneuver them into some sort of sense. As there was no way Park Jinwoo, the I’m super super straight Park Jinwoo had said that. 

“I have to confess too.” Myungjun blinked rapidly trying to keep up with all the new information he was being given. “I come from an alien bloodline as well, the Druids had brought with them the Rov and…” At this point Myungjun was sure his eyes couldn’t get any bigger, his face any redder, nor his mind anymore boggled. “The descendents of the Rov know who their soulmate is when they touch them. Which is why I asked you to coffee when we met the second time.” Jinwoo’s face was red now and he’d proven Myungjun very wrong. 

“Wait..Wait…” Myungjun pulled his hand back holding both of them up in front of himself. It felt like he had emotional whiplash or maybe it was just mental whiplash. First he was convinced Jinwoo did not, could not love him and now he was saying he always had. Not to mention they were soulmates according to his own alien heritage that Jinwoo hadn’t wanted to accept, though if Myungjun were honest he’d probably throw his away too because coughing up petals was not nice.

“It’s a lot to take in.” Jinwoo’s smile was lopsided and unsure, it still made Myungjun’s heart melt while still beating too fast. “I was going to find you and tell you after your agent spoke to me. That was when it really hit home how much you meant, mean to me. I got into this business hoping I’d find you as art is both lucrative and your calling.” The smile was a little less sad this time as Jinwoo looked pointedly at the painting to his right hung on the kitchen wall, it was one of Myungjun’s own. 

“It is a lot and I thought I was going to be the one laying it on you with my confession.” Suddenly Myungjun found it wasn’t so hard to be honest now. A smile growing on his own face as he now placed his own hand over Jinwoo’s settling back down in his seat. “As it just so happens the one I’m in love with, have always been in love with, is you.” The lump in his throat was gone, the feeling that it would be hard to breathe later tonight fading with the way Jinwoo’s blush intensified. 

“I guess we have a lot of catching up to do then so we can get this romance truly started.” Jinwoo winked at him and for the first time in a long time Myungjun felt his heart flutter, no pain involved. Silently he thanked his lucky star and fate for not being cruel to him and started in on the food that was getting cold. The conversation flowing much easier now as they caught up on lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this mess. It was different than I'd planned on but I don't dislike it in the end. Of course I'm also a huge alien lover, but even I wasn't expecting that twist. Oops

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts???? I'll take your criticism well so please lay it on if you have any.
> 
> Also I have not abandoned Jinjin on the Prowl I just needed a change of pace. I am gonna try to make this three chapters


End file.
